The Last Laugh
by Phoenix901
Summary: My own spin on the Batman mythos, this story recounts Batman's first encounter with his nemesis, the Joker.


It was a city like no other. Reflected in the shimmering waters of the bay, the marriage between old and new bordered the horizon. From skyscrapers, tall and gleaming, to looming castle-_esque _turrets jutting up among the steel, it was a strange place. Long years had passed since the last disaster, the last reboot, the last time God had wiped his canvas clean there. Now the old, gothic fortresses merged with the metal of the modern era - and the result was breath taking.

Nearly everywhere you went in that city, you would see the same symbol. To the people, it was a symbol of hope, joy and renewal; to the executives, a symbol of profit, sharp suits and the latest sports car. That symbol was 'W', in a simple style, embossed, engraved, printed wherever it may be. It's meaning? Wayne. That name meant a lot here. Most would associate _Wayne _with _Wayne Enterprises_ or perhaps _Bruce Wayne_, the companies' CEO. He was an important man. Probably the most important, at least here. Such was the power his company commanded, that Bruce, directly or indirectly, had control over pretty much everything in the city - from the monorail to the hospitals, from the nightclubs to the banks.

But some things were beyond the influence of that good, wholesome corporation. For, at night and increasingly in day, the city turned. With the waning of the sun, the creatures of darkness emerged. Muggers. Murderers. Rapists. A war raged on endlessly in the streets, the drug lords and mafia dons duking it out for their territory, for their respect, for their survival. The police department did their best, and yet corruption ever sought to undo them. Yes, crime clung to the cities' underbelly like a plague of persistent parasites, draining the life - and money - from Gotham. For Gotham was that metropolis' name, and Bruce Wayne it's hero. In more ways than the citizens or criminals ever realised.

That man's life was an odd one. His father, Thomas, and his father before him, had strived to establish their families' name as Gotham's saviour. But for every godly deed, the underworld committed a satanic one. Once such event was the murder of Thomas and Martha Wayne, in front of seven-year-old Bruce. That day, Wayne Enterprises had announced a considerable donation to the Burton Street Hospital. Their sacrifice, however, sparked the city into action, and three major crime bosses were imprisoned - Alfieri Falcone, Richard Fisk and Elliot Thorne. And so the cycle continued.

Bruce grew up in the way any billion-dollar heir did. He went to the best schools, ate the best food and lived the best life possible. But wealth could not fill the void in that young mans life left by a desperate gunmen who happened upon Gotham's leading couple. As soon as he could, he left Gotham, and went wherever the wind took him. Years later, and the wind blew him back to his home city. Now his life was again that of a rich play-boy. He had everything. Or did he? Those who were keen enough to notice would see a discrepancy about that young man's lifestyle. Getting drunk and swearing at a house full of guests on his birthday, disappearing for long periods, always having to leave unexpectedly, never staying quite long enough for anyone to properly get to know him. There is an exception of course - Alfred. He was the Wayne's butler since before Bruce was born. He would probably serve the family until he died.

It happened that upon one such day, twenty five years after the death of Bruce Wayne's parents, a woman knocked upon the door of Gotham's mayor, Ernest Meridian. His office was atop the Strommlocke Spire, an eighteenth century clock tower propelled into the skyline by tall modern support building. The Mayor sat in his spacious, neat and very clean quarters, quietly scrambling his way up a mountain of forms and reports. It was growing late, dark now, and yet his work had to be done. The knock came as a surprise to the balding, bespectacled man in his late fifties - surely Selena would have informed him of any appointments. That was another nail in her coffin, she would definitely have to go. He made a memo to himself to fire the secretary.

Again, _knock knock_. A funnier man may have replied, "who's there?", but Meridian settled on "Come in".

A click and a creak later, the Mayor looked up to see a pale blonde woman with thick-rimmed glasses and a wide, thin mouth standing in the doorway. She held a shockingly huge file of some sorts, crammed with papers. _More work _flashed across Meridian's mind quicker than anything else. Without invitation, she strolled in. The mayor took in her studious turtle neck sweater, crisp grey jacket and similarly coloured skirt as she made her way over to him. Her appearance warned him against the imminent work load she was bound to bring.

"Dr. Harlene Quinzel," said the woman as she reached Meridian's desk. She stretched out a hand to be shook.

Meridian put on the public face, and took the ladies' hand. "Pleased to meet you," was his standard reply.

"I've come to discuss some of the more serious matters afflicting Gotham today," announced Ms. Quinzel. Inside, Meridian groaned with boredom, "You, Mayor, can help put Gotham back on track,"

"I'd be happy to discuss this at a later time -" began the Mayor. Quinzel cut him off.

"It needs to be discussed now." she said.

_Alright, I'll humour you. _thought Meridian, _for now_."What would you like to discuss?"

Quinzel sat down (uninvited), a look of contentment stretching her already thin lips. She placed her heavy file on the table with a soft thump. "Batman."

"An urban legend, Dr. Quinzel," replied Meridian automatically. "Anything else?" The last thing he wanted to go into now was Batman. The press would have a field day if they knew he and the police were involved with that vigilante. He first appeared two years ago, and 'fought' crime in his own, theatrical way. Despite being mostly a nuisance and sponge for police funds, he was _useful_. Take Rupert Thorne, son of the legendary gangster Elliot Thorne. He was flooding Gotham with drugs, but enter the Batman and - well, Thorne is now behind bars, and the cities' drug trade subdued for the time being.

"I have proof that you are in cohorts with him," said Quinzel confidently.

Meridian coughed, adjusted his tie, and prepared himself for the next lie.

"I assure you, if the Batman existed, we would be making every effort to arrest him,"

"Mind if I quote you on that?" said Quinzel, pulling a Dictaphone from her pocket.

Meridian's eyes flashed with anger. "Are you from the papers?" he demanded.

"How long have you and Batman been working together, then?" continued Quinzel in an altogether reporter like fashion that any politician would tell you is highly annoying.

"I'm going to have to ask you leave,"

"Answer the question, Mayor!" insisted Quinzel defiantly.

"Fine, if you won't leave, I'll call security," said Meridian.

"You don't want to do that, Mayor." said Quinzel, getting up suddenly. She threw down her Dictaphone and pulled out a revolver. Aiming it at his head, she said menacingly, "Now tell me, because I know you know - who is Batman?"

Oddly, the Quinzel woman, whoever she was, asked the one thing he actually _didn't _know. Although they had collaborated with him at times, the Mayor and the Gotham City Police Department had no idea who the masked rogue was. And now Ernest Meridian was stuck in a hold up with no means of escape. Where was that Batman when you needed him?

"I don't know," mumbled Meridian. Quinzel's frown deepened.

"Liar,"

"I swear to God, I don't know!" the Mayor said in a panicked rush. "Please, I have a child!"

The gunwoman gave a dark smile. "Then bring him here,"

Meridian gave a look as if to say 'how in the hell would you like me to do that?', and Quinzel read it instantly.

Quinzel said in a low but calm voice, "Use the signal."

The Mayor's eyes widened. How could she possibly know about the signal? It was top secret, and the only other person who knew about it was the Police Commissioner Jim Gordon. He had suggested in it within a month of his appointment, less than a year ago. Fortunately for Mayor Meridian, the signal had never been used.

Quinzel gestured irritably with the gun, growing impatient. Meridian swallowed, sweating despite the coolness of the air-conditioned office. Knowing he would regret it, he reached down to his computer's keyboard. He tapped a concealed button on the side, and the number pad flipped up revealed a large red button. It looked like one of those obvious 'self-destruct' buttons in cartoons. Reluctantly, as Quinzel looked on, he pressed the button.

"Here's to the new job!" said Bruce Wayne, as he toasted the finest champagne with his girlfriend, Chase Meridian. They were having dinner at the ultra smart, high rise Rose Café. He looked younger than 32, perhaps due to his excessive health regime. He had a strong jaw and dark eyes. Chase, on the other hand, was a vision of beauty - long, sweeping red hair, twinkling blue eyes, luscious red lips, and a petit figure. Being a psychiatrist, she had recently got a job at Arkum Asylum, Gotham's home for the insane. It was a respected and well paid position, and what with her new relationship with Bruce - life was good for Chase Meridian.

Bruce smiled across the table at Chase. He had been happier than he had been in ages - he felt Chase understood him better than most.

"Dessert, madam?" said the waiter as he sidled up. While Chase perused the menu, the waiter looked out casually through the front window at the crisp night.

"I'll have the - " began Chase

"Oh my!" exclaimed the waiter, and he pointed across the couple to the night view - a blazing beacon of light had just ripped across the blank sky. The image it projected shimmered on a hidden cloud. It was a bat, in the style of the enigmatic Batman.

Bruce's eyes widened. _Not now_, he thought,_ it just better be serious_.

He leapt to his feet, threw a hundred or so dollars onto his plate, grabbed his coat, and raced out, calling to Chase, "Sorry about this, I'll make it up to you I promise!"

Chase slumped in her chair, pouting angrily and mumbling something like: "That's what you said the last time…"

Batman landed silently on the roof of police headquarters, the source of the 'bat signal'. He remained in the shadows so as to keep unseen, in case of a trap. His black cloak and cowl helped in the concealment.

He soon became aware that he was not alone. Just behind to the over bright searchlight was another man; he too kept to the darkness, so only a rough silhouette was visible. He appeared to be wearing a trench coat.

"Are you going to stay hidden forever?" called out a high, mocking voice that barely concealed a jovial malice. Batman narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He had not realised he had been seen.

"Who are you?" Batman called, not moving but keeping his eyes on the shadowy figure.

"Oh, just an old friend," replied the stranger, still in that gleeful but annoying way.

_This man is messing with me_, thought Batman. It clearly wasn't Commissioner Gordon, unless he'd suddenly had a dose of helium. He said nothing, leaving the other man no choice but to say something more.

"It's so boring playing in the dark, wouldn't you say, Bat? Why don't you come into the light?"

"You first." said Batman brusquely.

"Alright, if you insist," the other man said, laughing. The laughter was cackling and yet joyful. He stepped forward so the brilliance of the bat-signal illuminated him. Batman's eyes widened behind his cowl. This person had chalk white skin, ruby red lips and a shock of vivid green hair. He was dressed very flamboyantly: his trench coat was a deep shade of purple, and he wore a green bow tie around his neck with an orange waistcoat over a pink shirt. His overlong, baggy violet trousers brushed the floor, it's hems frayed. But the creepiest thing about this man was the wide, unnatural smile etched into his face, yellowed teeth showing. Batman was reminded strongly of an over-zealous clown.

"Your turn," the man said. Batman neither moved nor spoke. He was still taking in the stranger's ghastly appearance.

"Who are you?" repeated Batman eventually.

"In all honesty, I don't remember my proper name. But I go by the alias Joker now. It's funny, isn't it, how I took that name just after we met?"

Batman could find no humour in it at all, and wondered what this Joker was talking about: he would surely remember if he had met someone like this before.

"What do you want?" said Batman, getting straight to the point. Joker let out another hideous cackle.

"You, my dear Bat, you!" replied Joker, his eyes round with glee. The face behind the Dark Knight's cowl was bemused. Joker continued: "Let me explain. I want to pay you back for what you did to me. I want to kill you." he said this last part quite calmly, in deep contrast to his prior buoyant manner. Slowly, he raised a gun up to point directly at the place where Batman stood.

"That's not gonna happen," whispered Batman darkly, and before Joker could pull the trigger, he threw a bat-shaped boomerang - a _batarang_ - at the madman, taken from his utility belt. The gun was knocked from Joker's hand; both of them leapt after it. Batman reached it first, and threw it away from them. Joker grabbed Batman's neck and tried to throttle him, but he was pushed off with a harsh kick. Using a sudden, amazing agility, Joker landed on his feet like an acrobat, and darted sideways. Batman lunged at him, his cape billowing. The Joker again leapt away, his trench coat flying out after him in an ironically similar way to Batman.

Landing, the Joker twirled around to face the Bat, but he was gone. Joker swallowed uncertainly, looking around for sign of his nemesis. His permanent grin hid the man's doubt and fear. He shouted into the night: "I'm no ordinary murderer, Batman! You can't scare me!"

Batman pounced. The Joker was knocked clean off his feet, letting out a yelp of surprise. He got up, seething with anger. He pulled out two playing cards from his coat, and launched them like knives at Batman. They missed their target, but hit the wall of the stairwell with a menacing twang, their edges sharp as razorblades. Batman dodged more deadly cards as he ducked and dived to get closer to Joker. The villain back away, flicking cards as fast a bullets until he had no more. Desperate and frightened, Joker cast around for a way of escape but only the long drop to the street was left to him now.

"Ta Ta, Batman!" he laughed, and without really knowing what he was doing, cast himself off the building.

The taxi came to a halt outside Strommlocke Spire. Chase Meridian stepped out, and paid the driver. Bruce's brisk exit had left her in a dark mood - she was tired, upset and angry. Whenever she got like this, she always went to see her dad. They had a strong bond that stemmed from a combination of her being an only child, and her mother's premature death. Despite the strain of her father being the Mayor for Gotham, he still had the ability to comfort her when no others could.

Inside the plush entrance hall, she called an elevator, and then jabbed for the top floor. As it was nearing 9pm, she wasn't sure whether he would be too pleased to see her at the office - increasingly these days he was very grumpy when in what Chase termed 'Mayor Mode'. The soft _ping _announced arrival at her father's office level. The elevator door opened onto the waiting room, where a raven haired woman with massive glasses bumbled about, filing papers into various drawers. This was Selena, Mayor Meridian's famously incompetent secretary.

"Good Evening, Ms. Meridian," said Selena, pushing her glasses up her nose. "How was your date with Mr. Wayne?"

Chase, who really didn't like Selena's intrusive, gossipy manner, managed a half-smile and said "Great,"

She knocked on her father's door and heard a muffled bang from inside. Frowning in concern, she called out to him. No answer came. Chase knocked again. Still no answer. Another knock, more silence. Preparing herself for her father's angry tones at being disturbed, she opened the door.

Chase only had time to take in her father, tied up and gagged by his desk, before she was seized upon from behind. Someone was holding her by the neck, and from what she could see out of the corner of her eye, pointing a gun at her head. Chase gasped for breath as the woman breathed in her ear:

"What do you want, little girl?"

"Who - what - why?" spluttered Chase, feeling woozy at the tight hold. She didn't really know what she was saying.

"Mr Mayor over there says you got my old job at Arkum," whispered the woman maliciously, "I don't like replacements, girly, so guess what - you're fired!" Quinzel wrenched Chase around so she fell to the floor helplessly, and took aim. Chase, dazed, could not even prepare herself for the death stroke, when -

_SMACK_

Quinzel fell to the floor, unconscious. Chase turned, panting heavily, to see Selena standing over the assailant, a heavy binder clutched in her spindly hands. She looked quite stunned.

Chase got up and ran over to her father. Once she removed the rough rope Quinzel had bound his hands and face with, he burst out: "Mad! Stark raving mad!" He hugged his daughter in relief. Meanwhile, Selena came to her senses and began dragging Quinzel out of the room.

Meridian explained to his daughter what had happened.,"…and so I was forced to use the Bat Signal. I expect I shall have to resign. The press will never forgive me for being involved with Batman."

Chase looked out of the window at the signal in the sky, which faded time to time as the clouds passed. A strange thought occurred her. What if? But no - it was too odd. She then realised that her father was still speaking, and returned her attentions to him. They could here Selena phoning the police.

"She then started on about some man named 'Joker' or something, and how Batman was going to 'get what he deserved'. The woman was almost fanatical when it came to this Joker-character. Anyway, I just hope no one got hurt -"

"Hey! Come back here!" came Selena's voice. Chase and her father raced into the waiting room only to see the Quinzel woman waving mockingly at them from behind the closing elevator doors.

"You stupid woman!" Mayor Meridian shouted, rounding on Selena, who was still holding the receiver, "Did you think to restrain her while she was knocked out? This is the last straw! You're fired!"

He stormed into his office, slamming the door behind him. Selena looked rather shocked. Chase just shrugged. She had little sympathy for the woman. Then without warning Selena burst into tears, forcing Chase guiltily into comforting her.

Mayor Meridian sat down and sighed. He threw his glasses onto the desk, and rubbed his eyes. He really didn't need all this.

"Why did you activate the Bat Signal?" demanded a dark voice from the corner. Meridian gave a start, hurriedly replaced his glasses on his face and turned to see the speaker, although he already had a horrible feeling who it was.

"Batman…" he gasped under his breath. In the dim light of the office the vigilante was unnaturally tall and menacing. "How the hell-" he began, but then he noticed the window was open.

"There was a man waiting to kill me at the Signal," Batman said, "Did you have anything to do with it?"

"I swear Batman, I didn't know until after I'd called for you - I was forced…" he trailed off meekly. Batman's staring eyes were unnerving him. However, the Dark Knight seemed to accept his story.

"The man who attacked me has been taken to Arkum Asylum," Batman said, "He shouldn't trouble anyone for a while. He almost killed himself. Be more careful who you meet with next time," Silently he left the way he came.

The Mayor slid down he seat in silent relief: finally, this evenings troubles were over.

_BATMAN SCANDAL: MAYOR'S RESIGNATION CALLED FOR_

The newspapers had a field day over the 'Bat Signal revelations' as they became known. The clash between Batman and Joker, however, was virtually unreported - few knew anything about it, save several dodgy witnesses. And as for the mysterious Harlene Quinzel, she was never brought to justice.

Three days after the event, a shifty figure in an tattered overcoat and wide brimmed hat bought a copy of _The Gotham Times _. The headline was the same as it had been for two days: something along the lines of _The Mayor's finished, Batman's existence confirmed, _etcBut in a last paragraph of the article, this was written:

_A man was arrested near Police Headquarters, believed to have been in connection with Batman. He was taken to Arkum Asylum shortly afterwards. The police are also looking for the woman who held Mayor Meridian hostage._

Inside the coat, a tear of determination rolled down Harley Quinn's cheek. She would free her beloved Joker, and Batman would pay. It was only a matter of time.


End file.
